


The Enemy of My Enemy

by CalicoColors



Series: Good Intentions [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood and Injury, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Trust Issues, or something like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28023159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalicoColors/pseuds/CalicoColors
Summary: A chance encounter in the outskirts of Fire while an overworked, pissed off Madara is chasing down rogue shinobi toting stolen Uchiha children brings about some unexpected revelations about the younger Senju brother, Tobirama.Turns out, it only takes one near-death experience, a pack of excitable kids, and a lecture about herbal remedies for something like camaraderie to build between the most unlikely of pairs.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Good Intentions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135034
Comments: 29
Kudos: 528





	The Enemy of My Enemy

Madara's day started off with bang. A literal _bang_ from his door being kicked in by a frantic Izuna, in fact. Sprouting ramblings of a training incident gone-wrong reported by the border patrols where a few Uchiha children were caught leaving the territory and subsequently being snatched up by the scavengers that skulked on the edges of their land.

He had stood up in bed immediately. No matter how many times they fend them off, bloodline hunters and the like always tend to come back in some way like vultures, though they haven't managed to get so much as in breathing distance of an Uchiha for quite some time.

The Uchiha are no strangers to feuds and blood coveting and have protections in place for this. This time of the night and with Izuna’s panic, though, means their best protection right now is their strongest shinobi.

The most important part of it all is that the children were collected and not killed. As long as the children are alive, Madara couldn't be assed to care if the reason was personal or business; he's going to get them _back_ whatever it costs.

These types typically aren’t more than a minor annoyance ever since Madara became clan head and ramped up security on the borderlines instead of the Naka—skirmishes with the Senju are as violent as ever, but less frequent now that Hashirama is clan head. Or rather, the fights are the same, but Hashirama is, ahem, more _insistent_ in his peacemaking.

As if Madara would stoop so low to trust like that again, never mind his old friend. They weren't kids anymore.

The occasional reprieve from the river fights are welcome nonetheless now that most of the hunters are scared stiff to step so much as a toe in their bordering waters and are supposed to be specifically for _avoiding_ this type of situation. It pisses him off that the one night Madara decided to break early to bed was the one night everything goes up in flames.

So Madara scrambled to throw off his covers, toss on his most flexible armor for speed, and dash out the window before the sun even had the chance to peek over the horizon.

It takes three hours on foot and at his fastest speed, which is frustratingly _not as fast as he would have liked_ due to his unfortunate exhaustion from overseeing the construction of a new healing ward, implementing new policies, aforementioned delegation of patrols—clan head duties, which have seemed to increase more and more as winter approaches with its cruel claws.

Izuna would have followed, but he’s the acting head-in-chief when Madara's not around and most other shinobi are preoccupied fending off the last of them or are unable to keep up with his pace. At least, that's what he got from Izuna's impromptu briefing. Possibly. Was that what he said? Maybe he's more tired than he thought if his thoughts are this muddled. Either that or it's Izuna's unfortunate habit to crack under sudden bureaucratic pressures.

All the more reason to get this done as a fast as possible.

That leads him to now: three hours out in gentle rain gradually growing harsher, where the trees are picked bare from fall and the ground is so covered in muddy silt and haggard rock one bad fall would skin a man clean, facing down a pack of cheesy bandana-clad shinobi carrying an Uchiha girl.

The fortunate thing is that Madara brought his gunbai and the shinobi are cowards enough to shift nervously at the sight of him—wild, tangled hair fanned around dark feral eyes and all. His name is well known across Fire; they were probably expecting someone of slightly lower status than him.

Too bad for them. Despite the somewhat-moderate-to-major chakra exhaustion, Madara feels about ready to tear apart someone at the seams, and these pathetic lumps of trash look like perfect outlets for his vengeance-induced rage.

"Madara-sama!" the girl cries out from her perch in the arms of a red-wearing shinobi, before her mouth is quicky covered up by a hand.

"Quiet," the man hisses, putting so much pressure on the hold the child’s eyes start to water, and _nobody hurts his clanmates, nobody._

Negotiations proceed. At least one person loses a limb of some kind. The rain can't keep up with washing the blood-soaked ground and there’s a chorus of screams. Madara is not a diplomatic man.

He should probably tone it down for the child. Wide-eyed and surrounded by bodies, the kid is obviously terrified, but, well, Madara is also not the gentlest of souls on the battlefield. Or in a bloodrush. Or ever, really.

As long as she's safe he'll apologize later—

Wait. Something's not right.

_Didn't Izuna say,_ Madara thinks as the battle continues going well for him, _that a group of children were lost, not just one?_

There were multiple wailing parents when he tore through the main street after all. So why is there only _one_ girl here?

Madara’s question is swiftly answered when footsteps rapidly approach from ahead of him.

Reinforcements. Of course. This was a distraction party so the rest of the squad could live with the majority of stolen kids, to take down anyone who dared follow—

—but then, as the shinobi ahead skid to a halt a few wide meters away, why would they return?

Three Uchiha children were held in the larger party's hold, and actually seemed to be running _towards_ Madara, not running away.

The kids, one curly haired boy and twins with the exact same facial features, don’t seem worse for wear. Just frightened and lightly scratched up, but that shit doesn’t fly under Madara’s radar.

A trap of some kind, then, one his sleep-addled and adrenaline-rushed brain is having trouble picking apart. And yet even behind the bandanas Madara can tell they look scared, doubly so now that they see Madara in a pile of bodies, gaze a sea of red.

"They sent Madara Uchiha? The clan head?" One of them squeaks.

"As if our day couldn't get any worse," a burly one holding the curly haired Uchiha boy growls. _Tell me about it,_ Madara thinks angrily. "First the demon, and now this?" The man holds a short blade to the boy’s neck, a boy Madara actually recognizes as the local troublemaker Kagami. Madara's blood boils at the fear in his expression.

The shinobi sneers. "Guess we have no choice but to fight our way out of here—"

The next moment, something lances through the man's chest, something so sharp it makes him keel over immediately yet flexible enough to curve between the blade and Kagami's neck to stop it from cutting. _A stream of water,_ of all things, using chakra controlled so finely it impresses even him.

Any impressiveness instantly melts to slag though as the dropping of the man's body reveals the culprit behind the attack.

A pale figure stomps across the barren rock, and for split second Madara thinks he's seeing a vengeful ghost before he registers that, no, that's not a ghost, just a very, very pissed off Tobirama Senju.

Madara's hand tightens on the hilt. From what he knows of his limited knowledge of Hashirama's brother, it's that Tobirama Senju's a cold-hearted bastard who doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything, who has a knack for stealth and quick feet but is so devoid of empathy you might as well be talking to a brick wall.

He's not even sure his own brother likes him all that much, considering how little Hashirama spoke of him in their last month as friends. When they were younger, Hashirama liked to tell him funny stories of his siblings, but obviously something was lost along the way because the boy in the stories who used to fall out of trees gathering fruits is clearly dead, leaving behind...well, a ghost.

Madara had always hated him for the sheer fact that his presence puts Izuna's life in danger. Izuna is a good fighter, but Madara can't help but worry. The two of them aren't like him and Hashirama—when they fight, they fight for keeps, and that will end with a blade through one of their chests one day. It's one of Madara's biggest fears that keeps him up at night.

"Senju," Madara calls out, ignoring the shinobi tensed around them for a moment. "Stay out of this!"

The man's eyes flit over to him, steel garnet that nearly rival Madara's. Picking out his expressions through the rain is easy with the laser focus of his Sharingan, and it's easy to tell he's just as ticked off he is to see Madara as Madara is to see him.

"I wouldn't be here if you weren't so irresponsible. I was wondering whose children these were," Tobirama says, deep voice grating.

Madara snarls; if the albino bastard is implying that he had his designs on the kids as well... "So, the Senju have stooped so low as to childnap under the cover of dawn. Pathetic." Or maybe that's not all of it; it's no secret that the Senju have fantastic sensors within the clan on par with or above Madara. If one of their sensors or scouts picked up Madara's wild chase in the rain, alone, it would be seen as an opportunity.

If the Senju's older and more powerful brother can hardly keep up with Madara, his miserable sibling wouldn't be able to hold a candle. How low the Senju have fallen to think such a weak strategy would work under such a disgusting cover.

The fallen Kagami has scrambled to his feet, and Madara prepares to boost over and snatch him up before any other shinobi or demonic bastards notice even if it brings him right in the middle of fire. But Madara notices that the rain, pelting harder than before as the wind picks up, is hardly hitting the child at all.

A barrier of water is forming around him. The thing that had pierced the shinobi's body so finely was a lance of water that is now curving around the child as liquid. A threat if Madara's ever seen it.

"Don't you dare—!"

"Oi!" a shinobi yells as well, reaching for Kagami, but the water barrier suddenly hardens and _explodes_ outwards with ice spikes and pierces his hand through. He jumps back with a screech of pain.

Kagami is left—completely unharmed?

His eyes are wide within the thin water-ice cage, but the spikes are only on the outside. The barrier is _protecting_ him.

"I have just as little respect for kidnappers as you do, Uchiha," Tobirama states, hand pointed in a seal. "Especially when these incompetents had the nerve to pass by my camp, hardly hiding their passing and gloating their bounty. I could not let such a transgression pass my attention.”

"Likely story!" Madara bites, attention split, eyes straining.

"If you're looking for a better reason than that, then I have nothing to say to you.”

Wordy, mouthy asshole. Madara’s going to keep adding on more and more insulting adjectives to the Senju to keep his battle spirit up, because there’s a chance adrenaline is all that’s keeping him up right now.

A few of the shinobi seem to get their bearings and realize there’s no way out of this except with a battle. Not even their stolen chips will work very well when they have speed and advantage on their side.

The Senju notices as Madara does, then lowers into a stance. "Your caution is understandable, but might it wait until this is dealt with?”

There’s no time to answer; the battle rages on soon after.

They work on opposite sides of the field, both still wary of each other. Madara keeps focus on the real reason he’s out here.

It’s encouraging that whenever Madara flips one of the enemies into the mud and likely breaks at least three bones of theirs, he gets a “Go, Madara-sama!” and answering cheers.

At one point, they meet in the middle, not back to back but facing towards each other to avoid any potential backstabbing but perfect for verbal digging while they have the upper hand.

Madara smirks. “Missed my face? Been a while since we’ve danced on the battlefield together, Senju.”

"I'm not here for _you,_ Uchiha. Don't be so presumptuous,” Tobirama states, swiftly sucker-punching the opposing shinobi so hard in the gut he gurgles.

Arrogant asshole. Madara catches the shinobi stumbling away from the punch and snaps his arm over his knee.

"Of course not," Madara mocks sarcastically. "You just ran out in the middle of no man’s land in the worst storm this side of Fire Country out of the goodness of your heart, right?"

"It was a retrieval mission of intel across the country, mind you, and—" the water rains like spikes, hitting anyone in the immediate vicinity not holding precious cargo or without a gunbai to pull up. "—I have already told you the _why_ , Uchiha,”

“Sure you did. I’m sure a creature like you wouldn’t understand what a positive emotion was if it punched you in the face.”

Even through the rain, Tobirama Senju’s icy glare pierces. “Believe what you want, but hell or high water, Uchiha or Senju, these children will not be dammed to a small grave. I _refuse.”_

That gives Madara pause even though it shouldn't. Lies and silver tongues are common among shinobi after all.

And yet, that was the most passionate Madara has ever heard the man.

By then, the rain picks up, and the Senju does something extremely obnoxious. The rain starts swirling in a larger storm, and that’s when Madara realizes that the damn Senju is _manipulating_ the forces of nature around them.

Oh no. Oh, hell no, Madara _refuses_ to be shown up by a chunk of ice!

Gritting his teeth, Madara breathes in, out, then pours chakra into his eyes even if it feels like he’s shoving needles into it.

An incomplete Susanoo forms, not his best work but _enough,_ and it reaches out a hand towards the kids to pull them in as the water forms to a giant dragon, a technique he’s seen many times but not so up close.

The battle is over in less than a minute after that.

Madara lets the Susanoo go as it draws its sword down towards the last stragglers. There’s something wet running down his face that’s thicker than water, but that’s not important. His hands are shaking for some stupid reason, and he feels cold. Also not important.

What _is_ important is the cheers from the kids, standing in a field of puddles and jumping up and down at their clan head in joy.

“That was awesome!”

“Thank you, thank you so much!”

“Did you see that dragon? Wow!”

“I’ve never seen the Susanoo, Mom said you have to be really, _really_ good to use that.”

Trying to focus on them all, Madara squints, except there’s so much blood and rainwater in his eyes that instead of four kids he’s seeing twelve. Huh.

Oh, and one albino prick. Madara spits at him as promised and hopes it stains.

“Very mature of you, Uchiha,” Tobirama Senju says, emotionless as always. “Now, pick your head up, we must…”

He pauses, looking down. The kids pause in their ramblings as well. One of them gasps harshly when they take a closer look at him.

Madara tries to say “What?” except nothing comes out except a weak breath. When the Senju continues staring at his lower half, Madara’s eyes follow instinctively, and oh.

That’s. A lot of blood. And a really big fuuma shuriken sticking out of his thigh. Damn, how rough was that Susanoo if it didn’t even cover his legs? That should bother him. That should…

Before Madara can think about it, the cold overtakes him, and he falls to the ground as the last of his energy leaves his overworked body.

* * *

Madara's second time waking up that day was far slower, yet no less painful and abrupt. There's a horrible burning pain in his right leg, his head hurts like hell, his eyes refuse to open despite being—somewhere. Where was he again?

Ugh. Not his bed. The ground is hard. Water soaks his clothes like a second skin, cold and freezing wet. There's a strange-feeling cold spot on his leg, but it feels more refreshing than frostbite. At least it's not raining anymore, because it was storming like hell when he left...

All at once, Madara snaps his eyes open. The children!

The sky is a deep blue, only a few lingering storm clouds surrounding harsh sunlight that makes his eyes squint. Above him, a face stares down at him, one that his blurry eyes can barely recognize. _Overused the Sharingan again..._ he thinks with frustration.

"Tobi-sensei! Tobi-sensei, he's awake!" the face shouts, and he abruptly recognizes the face as a young child with long hair.

There's a rattle somewhere below his line of sight on his back, and his leg jerks slightly making him clench his teeth at the pain. "I'm not your—ah, never mind. Thank you, Susumu."

Susumu. Susumu! One of the girls! The one who was being held by the thieves, before...

Even though it burns more than anything, Madara activates his eyes and tries to flip his body up to take a defensive stance. Because that was _Tobirama Senju's_ deep voice somewhere below him.

The maneuver does not go as planned. The grip on his leg slips, making whatever is wrong with it go numb, then hurt as the cool feeling vanishes, then develop into agonizing pain so harsh he slips in the mud with his good foot and only succeeds in flipping himself upside down like a flounder, frozen in suffering.

Splendid. Absolutely fucking _splendid_.

His eyes sputter and die, making the migraine auras worse. Beached like a fish, defenseless, in pain, and without chakra, in enemy territory.

Small hands cover his shoulders. "Madara-sama, don't do that!" Another child's voice yells out, curly black hair at the corner of his vision.

"Uchiha, stay still," the Senju's voice bites out, and Madara wants to spit on him. He _will_ actually, the second when he can godsdamned move!

Madara lifts his face from the mud as much as he can without fully moving, a cold sweat breaking over him from the burning-cold-fire-awful leg agony and latent worry for the kids. "Susumu, Kagami, grab the other two and run east, I'll hold him off—!”

"Huh? You mean Tobi-sensei?" Kagami questions. "No, Tobi-sensei is helping! You're hurt!"

"Help? Ha! Don't let him fool you, child, listen to me now and _leave.”_

"It's true," two more voices say in unison—the identical twins, he's seen those kids around the compound. They look dirtied like the others, but healthy and not very injured. The girl has a bandage on her cheek and her brother has white fur wrapped around him like a cloak.

Tobirama Senju actually moves in front of Madara's line of sight, abandoning his lower half for a moment. Madara snarls at him with blood on his teeth. The effect is marginally less threatening as he wriggles like a worm in the dirt and is clearly so far beyond fucked up he’d likely lose against a particularly fierce rabbit.

The Senju looks in remarkably good shape despite the brutal fight not very long ago, or however long Madara was out. Dressed down in shinobi blacks and minimal armor damage, no hesitation or pain to his movements.

Even in basic armor for fast movement, hardly his usual, he still looks proper and composed. It pisses him off even more.

To add to the humiliation, the Senju bends down to his level. "Uchiha, you are in a sorry state right now, and I am sacrificing a lot of time and energy attempting to fix everything you broke. I would appreciate it if you didn't undermine my efforts by tearing open your gaping artery wound again."

"Go to hell!" His wiggling grows harsher.

The Senju narrows beady red eyes at him. "Do not make me use force to keep you down."

In response, Madara starts gathering oxygen with carefully trained breathing exercises, building up his internal fire. Whatever it takes, whatever it does to him—he has to do something! He refuses to be an easy target for the vile Senju. He _won't_ let his clan members succumb to a life of slavery or death.

"And now you wish to flagrantly throw around chakra despite having next to none," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I had hoped you would remain out of sorts for a while longer to avoid this exact situation."

Kagami suddenly dashes in front of the Senju just as Madara thinks about spitting a fireball at him. A weak one, it might have been, and it might have killed him on chakra exhaustion alone, but it would have been worth it.

"Stop, please, Madara-sama. He's good!"

"Yeah!" Mieko, the younger twin, says from his shoulder, still holding his torn robes. "You were bleeding really badly, and—and we didn't know what to do, and he came in and put green chakra stuff on your leg and now you're awake!”

"Green stuff..." Madara repeats, then shakes his head to ward away the confusion which, ouch, makes his head sloosh like a slurry. "No! Don't distract me!"

He wriggles, ignoring the pain as it grows worse, feeling something warm drip down his leg.

Tobirama Senju sighs the longest and heaviest sigh Madara has ever heard from a human being. "Excellent. You ruined my stitching. Again." He stands up and moves out of sight, and Madara just about screams at the indignity of it all. "I would use a sealing tag to keep you still until the chakra healing can actually take hold, but I really would rather you not die on me when you're already so weak."

"Fucking— _bastard_ , I hate you, what the fuck are you trying to—ge’ off me, let them go, liar—"

"Children, please hold him down. Gently."

"Yes, sensei!"

Madara tries to thrash, but he won't hurt kids, and the asshole knows this. Somehow, he managed to turn these sweet little brats against their clan head in less than an hour!

So Madara is unwillingly moved, held down by tiny hands, until his leg is stretched back out and—oh, shit, yeah, that wound does _not_ look good. Madara's seen bad battle wounds, and this one is...hideous.

Half of his thigh looks gone, covered in dark blood and dirt and the edges of black stitches, and he turns nauseous looking at his own body. Hysterically, he wonders how he was even moving before with how much muscle mass that tore through.

The Senju kneels beside the horrible wound, making a few hand signs and then hovering glowing hands over it. Madara waits for pain but only the cooling sensation returns, tingling uncomfortably. A few fresh blood droplets rise from the wound, bringing up the disgusting grime that had seeped in.

It's fascinating to watch. The blood hovers mid-air with careful control, just like that string of water that had wrapped around Susumu, and the Senju flicks it away into a shallow ditch with barely a thought. The wound pulls, but the bleeding is stopped soon enough as some of the torn veins and arteries repair themselves under green healing chakra.

Just as Madara is starting to relax into it slightly, that's when the Senju pulls out his bag.

"This will hurt," he says, right before he upends a bottle of alcohol on him.

Madara screams. Fucking _bastard!_

* * *

Later, when the wound is sealed with stinging stitches, Madara is propped up against a scraggly tree floating in and out of consciousness from the blood loss, waves of pain, chakra exhaustion, and general anxiety.

"Madara-sama, are you ok?" Susumu says from his side, looking up at him with big eyes.

"Hm..." Madara tries to focus, but his thoughts are swimming so much. The Senju must have done something to him with his freaky healing skills...or it's likely still the blood loss, that would make more sense...no, it's definitely the Senju, a shinobi as good as him wouldn't be felled by a simple thigh wound and some bleeding. He has too much blood for that.

Yes, Madara may be a little out of it, thank you for noticing.

"Make sure he drinks water and eats something," the Senju says as he delicately packs away his hellish tools of torture.

A canteen is pressed to his mouth and ration crackers are shoved in his hands. "Madara-sama, you heard him. Try this.”

"Don't listen to him, Kagami, he's...lying. He's a stupid liar. Senju." Oh no. Did he just slur his words slightly? Disgusting.

The water is from his own canteen though, his blurry vision confirms, and it does feel amazing on his parched throat. After a minute, his vision clears more as well as his head, and he takes the chance to look around. "…wait, where are the twins?"

"Oh, Mieko and Takeo went to get, umm...marigold, yellow, and burnlock."

"Yarrow and burdock," the Senju corrects Susumu, more gently than Madara has ever heard the man speak. "The marigold and yarrow is for inflammation and bleeding. What is the burdock used for?"

"Oh! Oh!" Kagami waves a hand around. "Infections! Because it has natural healing creams in it.”

"Anti-bacterial properties, yes, very good, Kagami."

The corner of the Senju's mouth quirks up. In a half-smile. The Senju was somewhat smiling, and he looked proud. At an Uchiha. _What?_

Kagami's chest puffs up proudly at the praise, and both the children remain enraptured to the demon's words, listening to him better than they listen to their clan head. "Recognizing herbs in the field is a vital practice for any shinobi, especially when one is not versed in healing arts or if you are on borderline chakra exhaustion—“ there’s a glance to Madara that does not go unnoticed, and is not appreciated. “Herbs can be found everywhere, however, and may one day save you and your comrades lives."

The children nod at the sage words, looking so serious it's almost scary. Kagami has never been still a day in his life, not even for his own mother, and Susumu has always been too shy to look anyone in the eyes. Yet here they are, trusting as can be, hanging on to the albino's words like they're the laws of the universe.

Madara is seriously going to kill the Senju for turning his kids against him.

"Wait...you let two children go out there? Alone?" Madara suddenly realizes, fog clearing from his mind with panic again. "With bloodline hunters that could still be lingering around?"

"Don't be foolish, Uchiha. I sent a clone after them."

A...clone? Ex-fucking-scuse him? Shinobi can't _clone_ themselves.

The Senju sees his confusion. "It's a technique I had developed some time ago that makes a perfect physical copy of myself. I had hoped to use it as a battle technique, but I figure this is a worthwhile time to reveal it as any."

That’s actually quite impressive, if true. Yet…

It could also be used to slaughter more Uchiha. Any calm Madara has scraped up from watching the interaction abruptly vanishes at the memory of the divide between their clans.

"How nice," Madara bites. "What if your clone explodes out there? Idiot, then they'll be alone and lost!"

"It is a well-tested jutsu of mine. The memories will return to me, they have my techniques, and I will know their location. Besides, I am keeping an eye on them from here as well." His eyes flicker over Madara's propped up form.

"Quit talking in circles and get to the damn point, Senju.”

"Madara-sama, language!" Susumu says with a hint of sternness, and Madara gapes at her. What the hell is the Senju teaching them to make them act out like this!?

"You're a sensor, yes? Even low on chakra I'm sure you can tell I am one as well. My range can go past Fire Country if I so wanted it to and my speed can match that, so rest assured that if the children are in danger I will know if an enemy has arrived long before they reach them."

...theoretically, Madara knew the younger Senju was a sensor. Good chakra control is a typical indicator, and sensors can usually detect others of their kind. But Madara has never cared much about the younger Senju, and to be a sensor with that far range? Either he's exaggerating or flat out lying. Madara can only hit the country borders at full capacity on a good day!

"A sensor?" Madara says dumbly, immediately hating the question as it leaves his tongue.

"Yes. Did you think the seals on my face were for show? They're range extenders."

Madara scowls. So what if he had thought that? The red lines on his face were strange, though Madara has never been good with seal work. He just assumed it was some kind of clan war paint, never mind the fact that pale Senju was the only one wearing it.

"How can I trust that you're telling the truth? What if you're removing children from the situation while I'm incapacitated? Why didn't you just go with them in person!?"

Let it be known that Madara is a paranoid bastard. Even with brain fuzz, all possibilities of disaster pass through his mind.

Tobirama starts rifling through his bag. "Considering the fact that I have just revealed to you some of my greatest assets to the brother of my rival, I would say I have leveled the field slightly. And I could not go because you were bleeding out like a stuck pig. I was not about to leave four panicking children to keep pressure on your wound. As fast as I am, you were losing too much blood and needed chakra healing immediately."

Madara ignores listening to something as moronic as facts and logic. It's all a trick, he just knows it. If only he can move...

"Don't worry Madara-sama, they'll bring back the most anti-bacterial properties you've ever seen. Tobi-sensei knows what he's doing." Kagami pats his shoulder, completely misunderstanding what, exactly, Madara is concerned about.

And what is up with that "sensei" nonsense!? They've known the Senju for all of a few hours and they're calling him sensei? They don't even call Izuna by his _name_ some days!

Madara gears up for a yelling match, but the white-haired man holds out a pill for him. "Here, eat this."

_Fuck_ no. "I'm not taking shit from you, _Senju.”_

"Language!" Susumu and Kagami yell, and Madara just wants to scream at the world for the hell he's living in right now.

Tobirama looks unimpressed. "Considering you've already passed out in front of me and scared the children, _and_ after I spent hours healing your miserable self, I think it's clear that I'm not going to do something so undignified as feed you poison while you're incapacitated. It's a soldier pill for chakra replenishment and blood loss. Eat it."

Glaring all the while—godsdamned those facts and logic—Madara swallows the pill viciously. "Happy?"

"No. But I do so appreciate all the hard work you've put into not dying." With a huff, the Senju storms off.

God, Madara hates that tone of sarcasm. Izuna always uses it on him, and it always makes him want to throw his brother into a bush of stinging nettles.

Kagami watches him stroll away, then focuses on Madara with a pout. "Why are you being so mean to Tobi-sensei? All he's done is help."

"Kagami..." Words are hard, and words are even harder for a literal child. For some reason, their blood feud has been turned all-but-null right now in the faces of these kids. How can he explain it in terms he'll understand? "It's not a good idea to trust Senju, or any shinobi for that matter. They'll take any chance they can to backstab and betray you."

"But sensei hasn't. He saved your life when that ninja was gonna hurt you really badly, and even when you’re being really rude he’s still helping us.”

"I don't know _why_ he’s doing all this, but he's cunning. He must have a reason. No shinobi would be so selfless as to save the enemy except to use them later."

“Why do they need a reason? That’s stupid.”

"What if Tobi-sensei was hurt?" Susumu presses. "Would you have helped him?"

Madara closes his mouth, thinking it over. He...doesn't know.

...he probably wouldn't. That's his first instinct. If the Senju had been gutted through, or injured, and Madara had the chance to save him, he would likely say 'good riddance' and move on.

But, after seeing him clearly defending Uchiha kids, and when he had supported Madara in battle, if only for a second—it’s not honorable to let that kind of deed go unrewarded. It's rude, and ungrateful, and ushers in bad karma.

Madara's heart has always spoken louder than his brain. It’s one of his more annoying habits.

"It depends," he replies cryptically, because he sees the way the kid's face sours at his hesitation. "Why do you insist on calling him sensei? You are aware he is the _enemy_ , yes?"

"Because he's really smart, and cool, and he's really nice and I want to be just like him one day!" Kagami gushes. The Uchiha girl nods in agreement so fast her hair flies all around her face.

"He showed us how to make a tore-knee-kit and taught us about plants and did you know the human body is made of sixty percent water? He said if we're good he'll show us how to walk on trees!"

"Tourniquet," Madara corrects. There's so much adoration in their eyes it turns him green with envy. They should be gushing over their clan head, not a bothersome outsider!

Well, he can admit the Senju is smart, and some of his moves are useful he guesses, and he's...generous, with his time and chakra, but he can't be better than Madara. He can't be!

There's a scuffling sound beside them from the rocky ground, and Madara looks over to see two giant piles of shrubbery moving towards them with intent.

"Get behind me!" Madara yells out and throws out a hand to push the kids beside him from his perch. An ambush, as he expected, though with the world’s worst disguises. A trap, perhaps? He needs to activate his eyes, damn the chakra, damn the blindness—get up—

A hand falls on his shoulder and Madara nearly crawls out of his skin. "If you pull your stitches again, I will seriously consider kicking you off the nearest cliff," Tobirama says. "It's Mieko and Takeo. Can't recognize your own, Uchiha?"

"Ah?"

...ah.

The walking pile of poorly disguised ninja-shrubbery, now that he stops to think about, is vaguely child-shaped. And there's someone behind them, someone with suspiciously white hair and red seal marks. _Okay, he really wasn't kidding about the clone technique._

"Madara-sama!" "Tobirama-sensei!" the twins yell out, dropping their piles. "We brought you these!"

The boy, Takeo, is still wearing the giant white fur thing that Madara had thought he dreamed up earlier. It looks familiar. As a matter of fact, he’s fairly sure Tobirama usually wears one just like it, one that has been suspiciously missing up on his person until now.

Hm. Madara refuses to think more on it. As long as the kids are safe. And warm.

"They insisted on bringing as much as they could carry," the clone says drily. "I only just managed to stop them from picking off every last leaf this part of the country."

The real Tobirama nods and with a wave of his hand, the clone vanishes into smoke. "You both did very well," Tobirama praises and ruffles their hair, and Madara tries to hold onto his hatred. The Senju are dishonorable liars, no good scoundrels, he can't trust them, especially not the ice-cold second in command.

"Oi, stop messing with my clan members!" Madara yells. After a pause, Tobirama— _the Senju_ pulls his hands away, which surprises him. The kids pout, bereft.

Someday they'll understand that Madara is doing this for their own good, even if they whine now.

"Of course. I apologize, Uchiha."

"...hm." It's the first time he's listened to Madara this whole time. Strange.

"This will heal Madara-sama, right?" Mieko asks. She picks up a handful of leaves and goes to slap it over Madara's heavily bandaged thigh before she’s thankfully stopped.

"No. First we have to make a poultice."

"How?"

Tobirama looks to Madara. "Do you mind if I do this? I will explain everything of what I am doing and what it is all for.”

"Why ask for permission now," Madara grunts. "When you've already done so much without it."

"You are out of the immediate danger zone at this point, and my duty is done. It is up to you from here on what you want to do with your body. If that involves writhing in pain over a major infection, that is your choice."

“Duty? You have no duty to me, Senju."

Tobirama hums. "No, but I do have a duty to these children, and my brother. Kagami, would you fetch the mortar and pestle from my bag?" Kagami salutes and scurries off.

"Hashirama..." Madara wonders, speaking his name for the first time in years without any kind of scorn underneath it. The pills have softened him up.

"He would be inconsolable. I'd rather not deal with it."

"That crybaby…"

"If anything, he's more of a child then anyone here," Tobirama states before he smirks. "Well, besides you, of course."

"Don't insult me, I'm injured," Madara says fuzzily. Yup, the pills are kicking in. He still feels good enough to think, which he's grateful for, and he slowly feels his chakra points gather just a bit more energy than it usually takes in. The effect is slightly dizzying, and he leans his head back against the tree to stop the impending headache.

"So?" Tobirama asks after a moment when Kagami announces his arrival back with a shout.

Madara blinks open an eye. "So what? Oh. Do what you want."

"...very well."

The sound of clinking, the rustle of leaves, the oo'ing of kids. Madara closes his eyes again.

"First, roll the yarrow and the marigold between your fingers until it turns damp. Susumu, not so hard. Takeo, please crush the roots with the pestle until it just barely starts to juice."

"Just put the whole thing in it, this doesn't need so many steps," Madara grumbles in impatience.

"Shh, don't interrupt Tobi-sensei!"

"Yeah, I want to hear!"

Madara considers, then, throwing himself off the cliff himself as to not give the Senju the satisfaction of doing it himself.

Despite everything, Madara keeps his eyes closed listening to Tobirama's deep voice explaining to the kids, and for the third time that day Madara drifts off, though this time with more peace than he thought he would have obtained when in the clutches of his enemy. It’s strangely…nice.

* * *

They decide to head out as soon as possible. A pile of shinobi bodies is not inconspicuous at all, and who knows what others are out there waiting to track them down if they smell blood in the air?

Madara flat out refuses to be carried like some weak civilian. He nearly spit fire at Tobirama when it was offered to him.

"You are _not_ carrying me."

"If you wish to walk, be my guest."

Madara’s mouth twists viciously but doesn’t try it because the last time he did was such a depressing attempt that almost had him flat on his ass in the mud. _Again._

“Can’t you use your freak healing skills to make me better?” Madara presses.

“Too much invasive chakra will cause your body to reject it and open your wounds. Deep injuries, such as a bone break or an arterial rupture, are delicate operations that require very fine control in small doses.”

“Shut up, you have great control. I can handle it, just give me the damn healing.” The humiliation is far worse than any pain he could go through.

Tobirama raises an eyebrow, and Madara goes over what he just said. Realizes he just gave the Senju an indirect compliment. _Don’t look into it,_ Madara glares with his eyes.

“Really, Uchiha, I had already carried you out of the field to patch your injuries. This is nothing.”

“Don’t remind me!”

Madara is still on the ground surrounded by the kids, who are looking back and forth between them like a particularity gripping battle even though it’s more similar to one of Izuna’s tantrums.

The all-mighty Uchiha clan head brought down to such an embarrassing state. It sucks. This _sucks!_

“We’ll help you,” Mieko says proudly. She and her brother have been tag-team carrying Madara’s gunbai at their insistence and refuse to relinquish it. The others nod in agreement.

“Fine,” Tobirama sighs. “If you insist, I can heal a little more. No guarantees. However, if we have pursuers at any point, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and lugging you back that way.”

Madara stretches out his leg. “Try and find out what happens to you, icicle.”

The healing works, miraculously.

(Green chakra hands cover his thigh, pressing energy into his coils, and it doesn’t hurt badly but it feels…oddly intimate in a way it didn’t when Madara was too out of it to recognize the feeling.

There’s a rush of heat in his cheeks that he’s going to blame on the rush of chakra. Yes, it’s only that.)

Before they set off, now that Madara can stand on deer legs supported by small over-excitable crutches, Tobirama waves over two of the ankle-biters. “Mieko, Kagami, allow me to check your injuries, please.”

They scurry over trustingly, but all Tobirama does is pour a bit of extra energy into the cut on Mieko’s cheek and some bruises on Kagami. The kids look at him like he hung the moon and stars.

And even after all that, he _still_ has a healthy amount of chakra to go on.

He’s showing off. Cocky bastard. Controlling bastard. Too-refined-for-his-own-good bastard. It’s so fucking annoying.

Anyways, Madara knows as well as the Senju that travel time to their borders is hours away at the speed they’re traveling at. Which is slightly-higher-than-snail’s pace, compared to the first mad dash.

“I should warn you,” Madara says as he limps along. “Some of my clan may be chasing after me soon to see what the fuss is about.”

Tobirama glances over. “Let me guess. Judging by the state you arrived in and your… _carelessness_ during the battle, you had rushed in here without a plan?”

Madara scowls. “I’m sure you didn’t have much of one, either! You were tossing around energy like you were a fucking—"

A harsh poke on his good thigh. Susumu glares.

“— _freaking_ energy bomb!”

“I’ll admit that wasn’t my best work.” Tobirama pulls at his collar in a way that implies uncomfortableness, as if he was embarrassed that his incredible, stupid water dragon was _underdeveloped_ or something.

But, Tobirama did not come out unharmed. Despite his good shape compared to Madara, he’s moving at a sedate pace not just for Madara’s benefit and their short-legged companions but clearly for his own recovery.

“I thought you were awesome,” Takeo butts in.

“Tobi-sensei, can we learn how to make a dragon too?”

Tobirama smiles slightly, that half-smile Madara had seen before that he thought he hallucinated. It makes the seals on his face brighter, somehow, and it’s…he quickly cuts off that train of thought. _Damn chakra healing, making him loopy!_

“Maybe later. We need to get your clan head home safe, right?”

“Right!”

Madara clears his throat to remind them all he’s right there. “So, yeah. Once we get deeper, they’ll probably be there. Watch out.”

“…how odd of you. I’d have thought you would have used the opportunity as an ambush.”

“I’m not a moron. You would have sensed them long before they would have reached us, and I’m not going to throw you under the knife in such an underhanded way after. All that.”

‘All that’ is kind of the best descriptor of what happened. They’re suspended in a strange sort of relationship, trekking through broken rock back to the forests they’re used to. They’re not allies, hardly friends, yet not enemies at the moment. In fact…

“Why are you even still traveling with us?” Madara argues. “Go away, actually.”

“No, don’t make Tobi-sensei leave!” Kagami cries.

Susumu actually abandons his side to grab at Tobirama’s hand just to make a statement. Betrayer.

“I’m staying because you might trip over a root and die, Uchiha.”

“The whole ‘duty’ spiel is getting old. I’m not your brother’s favorite toy or something, he won’t care.”

Tobirama hums in a sarcastic way to Madara’s finely developed bullshit detector.

Madara hurries to catch up so Tobirama can look at him and see all his dramatic hand movements. “Look, I’m trying to be _nice—”_ eugh, gross. “—and let you leave before my clan can come sweep your legs out. I can handle this. You’re not wanted!”

The kids protest with loud whines. Tobirama stays silent even over them. “Hashirama would want you home whole, not in pieces. This is to make us even,” Madara says slowly to enforce it, not exactly sure why he’s pushing so hard to aggravate the Senju to leave.

Having backup would help because as much as he hates it, Madara is more _sluggish_ than usual right now. He’s strong enough to fight some, but not for a long time as he’s used to.

It’s probably because of the frosty jerk’s presence. It dampens the area of wherever he stands, making Madara tense and uncomfortable. What if he snaps and kills them? This could be a trick. He could use them as bargaining, or to make a statement.

(In the back of his mind, he knows Tobirama wouldn’t do that. Not after all this.

Seeing all of it makes this ugly, uncomfortable feeling grow in Madara’s chest. The feeling that he was _wrong._ That maybe, just maybe, the Senju isn’t a warmongering phantom husk who only brings death.

He _hates_ second-guessing himself.)

Tobirama snorts, breaking the silence, speaking as if it hurts to say. “Even though you might not care any longer, brother still does. As well as Kagami and Mieko and Takeo and Susumu. I am protecting their dreams. I…care about their happiness.”

_Care? Ha, as if he ever could!_ That paranoid part of Madara whispers insidiously.

“So, what, you’re just going to escort us? In that state?” Madara exclaims. As good as Tobirama is, he wouldn’t survive a battle with a fully rested Uchiha squad, and they both know it. It’s a big risk. No shinobi would take a risk like that.

“Don’t sound too grateful, Uchiha.”

“They could attack first without questions. I could order them to kill you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Kagami states. There’s a fire in his expression. “You wouldn’t. I don’t care if you’re bigger than me, or stronger. Please stop insulting Tobi-sensei, Madara- _sama.”_

The children are getting far too bold and far too bratty for Madara’s liking. Madara looks down at Kagami’s dark eyes and thinks he sees slight edging of red at the corners of them. Not Sharingan, of course, he’s far too young, but an energy in them that preludes it if that anger were to escalate.

…okay. They are _very_ serious about this, clearly.

“Kagami, it’s alright.”

Kagami’s eyes turn big. “But sensei, he’s being mean. You said if someone was being mean to you or the people you cared for, you do something!”

Tobirama looks down at Kagami as if he hasn’t seen him before, a rare expression of shock in his raised eyebrows before he shakes it off. “For your allies, of course. Not your enemies.”

“You’re not an enemy. You’re Tobirama-sensei!”

_Kagami’s wrong,_ Madara thinks first. _Enemy is the right word._

But what enemy would protect their enemy’s children? Why would they risk death by saving the leader of the one who had killed so many of their clan, and vice versa? Why would they continue helping them henceforth?

Not allies. Not friends. What the _hell_ are they right now?

“A few hours is hardly enough to garner enough trust, Kagami. You must always be careful when—”

“Izuna might be there,” Madara blurts. “Just _go_ , Senju.”

Sharp eyes flit to him. “I’m not scared of your brother. Don’t be juvenile.”

“Hashirama will send me letters even though I told him to stop. I hate those letters. They’re always covered in snot.”

Tobirama sighs, long-suffering. “You have people waiting for you. The future of war hinges on your shoulders, and the future of our generation on the children’s. This is the most utilitarian approach to provide the greatest good for the greatest number. I am staying at least to when I can sense them.”

Madara blinks and scrunches up his nose. The Senju has just the most senseless way of wording things. There, Tobirama goes silent again. His hands are clenched even as his face remains as fettered as ever.

The one still in Susumu’s tiny hand remains a soft hold instead of a painful one, though. She turns her own eyes up at him, unusually sharp. “But you have people waiting for you too, right, Tobi-sensei?”

Tobirama stops walking for a brief moment. _A weakness._ His steps resume, closer to Madara’s pace instead of a step ahead. “Of course I do.”

“Are you sure?” Madara presses. “You’re disregarding your life quite easily for someone so sure of their status.”

“Awfully crass of you. It’s a risk, yes, but not _disregard._ It’s quite sensible if you think about it.”

“Really, now? So that’s why you’re being so cagey about your own health? Have you even tried to heal your side? I saw one of them crunch your ribs in earlier.”

His eyes narrow. “Get to your point, Uchiha.”

Madara flicks some dirt out of his nails, faux casual. “Are you even worried they’ll miss you? Don’t they care, like my clan does for me?”

Smarter than their own good, the kids catch the double meaning somehow. “You don’t have to go back to them if they’re mean to you. You can stay in my house, sensei!” Kagami yells.

“Yeah, if they don’t like you, then we’ll like you enough for all of them!”

Tobirama looks between them all, visibly confused at the attention. “Ah, that is not necessary, but thank you for the offer.”

Confused and cornered in a verbal spar, he still can’t be mean to kids. That says a lot about his character. Fortunately, Madara is mean enough for all of them. “Acting like you’re better than us. Do you do that to others? To your clan? And doing this as, what, a ridiculous favor for your brother? To garner a debt in the Uchiha?”

They stand at a stalemate. “My reasons were explained and not accepted by you. Assumption is ridiculous.”

“Assumption is what keeps us alive,” Madara says, on a roll. “When was the last time you ever felt something, you cold-hearted prick? Is your goal deceit? What would Hashirama think of you then, helping us only to take advantage of it later like a manipulative asshole?”

It’s cruel to say all this to the guy that healed your ghastly injuries from certain death and inevitable infection, but Madara _has to know, he has to_ and if there’s one thing he learned from interrogation is that you have to push to get them to break even if it’s all assumption.

“Why don’t you just accept the help as it is being offered. Quit _prying,”_ Tobirama all but hisses at Madara, speaking low.

Madara grins. He’s getting under the icicle’s skin.

“C’mon, Sen-ju, what’s your real reason for doing all this?”

“Trust me, I’m wondering that myself,” Tobirama mutters.

Aha! So there _is_ a ploy! “It must be so difficult. If you’re looking to get in good graces with the Senju by using us as bargaining chips, you’re sorely mistaken. They must be so disappointed in you _._ If you think your pathetic brother would ever—"

Then, there’s a fist tangled in Madara’s shirt. It’s a harsh grip that jerks him forward, jostling his injuries with a wince. The kids go silent from their worried muttering amongst themselves.

“First of all, none of you could get close enough to so much as scratch me,” Tobirama whispers only to him, so close the ends of his bangs nearly brush Madara’s. “I am quite confident in my abilities. Second, do _not_ insult my brother. You can smear my name into the dirt, but I won’t allow someone to disgrace him. Because you won’t to accept anything else, this is a _personal_ mission, and I always intend to see my missions through. I refuse to explain further if you refuse to listen.”

His shirt is released harshly, a clear dismissal.

“I might be a teacher by hobby, but I do not need to explain every inch of every action I take.” Tobirama turns back to the kids. “…I apologize for that outburst. As amends, I can show you the beginning of some water signs as we walk if that is okay with your clan head.”

Shaking off the ominous energy just then, the kids gasp excitedly and turn to Madara, who is struck with the terminal ailment of “stupid-looking” with his slightly open mouth, frozen in shock.

The question barely registers. “Ah—fine, yes,” he agrees, still stuck at that expression of cold anger and how it burned like frost over his skin.

Slowly, things return back to normal as Tobirama explains channeling in a simple manner to the kids and sends them practicing the dog seal, all four of them pressed with determination.

“…sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m not saying it again,” Madara mutters. “I…may have pushed a bit much.”

Tobirama is silent, but when Madara glances over he looks thoughtful. “Two apologies in one day. I’m impressed.”

“What? When was the first?”

“You offering to let me go. That counted.”

Madara’s face twitches. “That was a way to _get even,_ not an admission of guilt!”

Tobirama snorts yet won’t turn his way. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a paranoid bastard? Susumu, be careful. Don’t pour so much in or it may fall apart,” Tobirama says louder at the end as Susumu strains to hold a water technique.

The trees are growing thicker. The kids have stopped for a moment as they come upon a puddle, furiously signing in front of it to try to make it do something as working with existing elements in nature is easier to do when someone is unfamiliar with a certain release.

Madara takes this moment to camp beside a tree. All this walking and talking have strained his already badly strained energy, and there’s been no sign of enemy activity. “It may have been mentioned to me once or twice.”

Tobirama regards him coolly. “Trust issues as well. A dreadful cynic. You have a lot going for you.”

“Here you go again, acting all high and mighty as if you aren't the same.”

“Considering you just attempted to dig into my supposed issues, I say I’m granted the right back.”

Fairs fair, he guesses. “It’s actually the opposite. I…used to be too trusting, at one point. But my hand has been burned so many times I’ve learned to pull it back,” Madara says.

No more words are needed there. Both remain watching the puddles, staring at their reflections.

“…So. You might have been telling the truth. No ulterior motives.”

“No ulterior motives,” Tobirama echoes. “So. Your concern is unnecessary.”

“It’s not concern! We’re enemies!”

Takeo slips in a puddle and all of his friends laugh even as they help him up and brush the fur coat covering him back to white.

Tobirama watches them, that strange softness to his gaze Madara keeps seeing. “They’re good kids.”

“Hm. Awfully trusting. I’ll have to break them of that.”

“Please do. Having them call every stranger they meet ‘sensei’ would become dangerous quickly.”

Laughing a bit, Madara watches one of them suspend a drop of water for half a second to the amazement of the others. “They don’t even call their own sensei ‘sensei’ some days.”

“Ah? Strange…” Tobirama hums to the wind. “Must be special.”

“…must be.”

“While you’re here, I must ask something,” Tobirama says. Madara squints—was that hesitation?

“I suppose.”

“Do you still dream at all?”

Riddles again. Such silly, flowery, nonsensical wording. Madara tries to translate. “Does this have to do with your brother?”

Tobirama inclines his head, and Madara sighs. Perhaps he can honest just this once and blame it on the medication. “…sometimes. I have nice dreams, but I always wake up too fast to see them through. I...suppose I still have the same as Hashirama, but his head hasn’t left the clouds for years, I bet. Unlike mine.”

“Hm. Alright.”

“Strange question to ask, of all things.”

“Just making sure.”

_Of what,_ Madara wants to ask, but—no. That would be pointless. Madara’s not the only paranoid bastard in the area, after all. Just the more impulsive one. Everyone’s afraid of making mistakes, even if they hide it.

After a moment, Tobirama stands, stretches, and pulls the branch above Madara so some of the water droplets fall and make him sputter. “Turn those off, you’re wasting energy.”

Madara blinks and turns his Sharingan off. “Just making sure.”

Susumu dashes over excitedly after holding the water, waving her arms around. “Tobi-sensei! I did it!”

“Very good,” Tobirama nods. “You might have a slight affinity for water. Ask one of your teachers to look into it if you are curious when you get back home. Unfortunately, I cannot teach you for much longer.”

Kagami, valiantly straining to hold on to a dog seal, lets the puddle explode with a splash. “You’re leaving!?”

“I’m afraid I must be going soon, yes,” Tobirama apologizes.

Madara nods in acknowledgement. He sensed the figures moving at a distance—the regeneration pill truly did help. He wouldn’t doubt one of the best sensors of the Senju could feel it too. Possibly in all of Fire.

“But what about tree walking?” Mieko begs.

“Another time,” Madara says before Tobirama can speak. After a beat, Tobirama nods, and Kagami runs over to hug him—gently, minding the ribs.

“Promise me!”

“Ah…” Tobirama says, awkwardly standing with his hands out. Madara watches as his hands flutter, then settle as the Uchiha clan head doesn’t move in anger at the show of affection. “I…will try my best of course, but…”

“Promise,” the other three chant and join the circle of affection.

Tobirama doesn’t react, hardly moves, until Madara gives him a ‘go on’ gesture. He makes a show of not caring, inspecting the gunbai the children left beside him in their practice-slash-promise session.

“…I promise, then.”

From afar, there’s a slight sound. More presences approaching. Time is up.

Once leaving the little heart-to-heart, the ghost speaks lowly to Madara only. “I won’t speak of this to anyone.”

“Sure.”

Nodding at him, Tobirama turns away. After saying an individual goodbye to each teary-eyed student of his, he leaps deeper into the forest and prepares a sign…

Madara clambers to a stand. “Wait.”

Tobirama pauses.

“ _Your_ dream that keeps you moving. Your personal mission with it. What is it?” He asks, willing to listen this time, and maybe the other could sense it because he only remains still instead of leaving immediately.

Tobirama keeps his eyes forward. “I stopped dreaming a long time ago.” He glances back. In the faint rays filtering through the canopy, he looks smaller than he does normally, not the imposing demon out for Uchiha blood. In this moment, he’s a simply a man.

He wonders what Tobirama sees when he looks at him.

“But, I suppose I wish to protect those who dream for a future they truly believe in, in a way I could never. For a better world, or something impossible like it. Don’t let me see them next on a battlefield…Madara.”

The seal completes, there’s a flash of light, and Tobirama vanishes.

There’s also a slight rush of power that shakes every branch within their little canopy, sending a cascade of rainwater to resoak his recently dry clothes, somehow missing everyone else _except_ Madara.

Madara crosses his arms and spits wet hair out of his mouth as the kids laugh.

Flashy, showy bastard.

The next instant, Izuna is by his side, and the clearing is suddenly filled with fifty percent more Uchihas than before.

“Brother, what happened!?” Izuna cries out, patting over his wound and tossing an arm over his shoulder so he doesn’t have to lean on his gunbai.

The kids are already blabbering to the other Uchiha, and judging by their elder shinobi’s stiffening postures, they’re not hiding any details.

Madara smirks. Well, only _Tobirama_ promised to not speak of this again. It’s not like Madara bound himself to the same promise. He probably just assumed Madara would do it anyways.

He didn’t account for the fact that Madara loves drama too much to let this go.

“Izuna, you won’t believe who just tried to save our lives…”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be short. Hm.
> 
> Anyways welcome to one of my favorite lesser-known pairings! I like the dynamic the fandom has made for them and the Founders Era. You guys are so creative it’s incredible.
> 
> Clearing out my WIPs. Might rework this a bit later. I have half a sequel planned but I’ll see how I feel about it. This is a fun world to write in :) thank you for reading, I really do appreciate it <3


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